Chapter 23: The Next Step

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AN: Usual disclaimer--if you don't like smut, skip the second part, the part that's under the flames, peaches, and honey pots 😉

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It was a fun evening, full of laughing and food and games. Elliott had some nice memories of spending time with both his parents, but not like this, not in an intellectual and nearly equal, adult to adult way.

They sat around the cozy kitchen table as the snow continued to fall, drinking wine (he and Ruthie consumed in moderation; permissive or no, there was just nothing to be gained by getting stupid pissed in front of your parents, or in his case, his girl's parents) and playing board games as they ate their way through three pizzas.

He learned some new games; one was called "Taboo," in which the object was to get your teammate to say a particular word without using certain other words commonly used to indicate that word. For example, if the word was "Christmas," the list of word you couldn't say would probably include "Santa," "mistletoe," "presents," "December," and "holiday."

In one hilarious turn, Ruthie, who was paired up with her Pop, Phil, was trying to guess a word and Pop was having the devil of a time coming up with words he could say. What he finally came up with was, "What did your dad and I just not ever, ever, want you to become in high school?"

Without missing a beat, Ruthie yelled out "Pregnant!" which, while true, was not the word Pop was looking for. He snarfed wine up his nose at her exclamation, and choked so hard they had to tip the sand-filled time keeper and pause the game while Todd whacked his husband on the back as he slid to the floor laughing.

"Not 'pregnant'?" Ruthie asked, disappointed. "I was sure the word was 'pregnant.'"

"No, Rosebud," her father gasped. "The word I was looking for was 'cheerleader,' which I think we can all agree is a much more benign thing to be in high school than 'pregnant.' Jesus," he added, shaking his head.

"But I thought you were a cheerleader?" Elliott asked Ruthie. "Until last year?"

Ruthie nodded. "I was."

"She was the youngest head cheerleader Warren High's ever had," Todd said.

"It's nothing to be proud of," Phil said darkly. "It's a disgusting, sexist institution that sexualizes and infantilizes teenaged girls at the same time."

Todd held his hands up. "Okay, okay, let's not get into this again. She didn't want to do it anymore and she quit all on her own, so all's well, right?"

"I'm just curious, sir, why you let her do it if you felt so strongly about it?" Elliott asked Phil.

Phil sighed. "I have my opinions about it, obviously, but as my daughter pointed out, there's something to be said for admiring something, anything, being done at a high level of skill, to the very best of one's ability. Ruthie was amazing. She was a dancer, with a bit of gymnastics thrown in, and she was petite, so they could lift her and throw her around and all that, so they really wanted her. And they did have their own competitions, it wasn't all just shaking their asses and pompoms for the guys, which was the part I objected to.

"I didn't put in all the hours and effort raising the smartest, most amazing person I could so she could become a sex object for a high school neanderthal, that's all I'm saying," he concluded, and it was obvious from his tone that he'd said these words before.

"Pop doesn't like sports or activities that don't have equal status teams for both boys and girls," Ruthie explained. "And since there were no guys shaking their booties for me at my swim meets, he didn't want me to do it. And I eventually agreed with him. I noticed that even the best teachers didn't take my opinions as seriously when I was wearing my outfit, and it bothered me."

"So the jackpot question, then is this," Elliott said as he grabbed another slice. "If you ever have a daughter, will you let her be a cheerleader?"

Ruthie stared at him as she considered his words. "Wow, I don't know. I guess, if I do everything right, she won't want to be one, right?" She looked at her dads. "Not that you didn't do everything right, because there's a lot to be said for free will and making your own choices." She looked back at Elliott. "I suppose that if I have a daughter who wants to cheer, I'll have to accept that I've already screwed up and let her, and hope she realizes what I think is wrong with it and agrees with me eventually?" She shrugged.

Throughout the entire evening, which was spent in their pajamas, Elliott was aware of Ruthie sitting next to him in a very cute pink flannel onesie which was covered with Christmas trees. Pink fluffy socks covered her feet, and he could smell whatever shampoo and soap she'd used in the shower before she came downstairs. It was different from what she usually used, and it was a heady fragrance. Every once in a while, he could see the flannel mold to her body as she stretched to reach something, pulling taut over her hip, or across her front, and their conversation from earlier would float back up to the surface of his mind.

Finally, after a laughter filled five minutes during which they tried to convince Amal Clooney to go out into the snow to go potty (Elliott finally carried her as she clung to him, to a partially protected area under a tree so she could go), everyone went up to bed, calling out their goodnights. Ruthie kissed her dads as they climbed the last set of stairs to the master suite, which took up most of the third floor of the "cabin."

"Would you like to use the washroom first?" Elliott asked when they were alone in the hall.

"We can both go together," Ruthie assured him. "There are two sinks, and there's a door on the toilet, remember?"

"Right," Elliott said, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Look," he said when they'd finished brushing their teeth, an oddly intimate activity that made him even more uncomfortable.

Ruthie sighed. "I knew this was going to happen, I knew you were going to try to back out." She shook her toothbrush at him, flicking a few drops of water on his chest.

"Come on, Ruthie, that's not fair," Elliott replied, trying to keep his voice down even though there were two closed doors between them and Ruthie's parents. "If I've had perfectly reasonable second thoughts, why shouldn't I be allowed to reconsider? You said yourself that forcing someone to do something they don't want to do sexually is repugnant, regardless of genders or whatever."

"So now I'm repugnant?" Ruthie asked as she put her toothbrush away.

"Dammit, I did not say that, and you know it!" Elliott hissed.

"Besides, I'm not trying to force you to do something you don't want to do," Ruthie retorted. "You want to, you were practically drooling to do it earlier, so don't deny it!"

"I was not!" Elliott denied, though her words were close to the truth.

"Yes you were! You just don't think we should, for some unfathomable reason," Ruthie insisted. "I don't know what you're worried about. I mean, no one can get pregnant, I don't have anything you can catch, and it's not like I'm offering to return the favor yet, you know?"

Yet.

The image of Ruthie on her knees between his legs, sucking him off, was so arousing that Elliott nearly lost his train of thought.

"I know I don't know how, and I don't want to hurt you or accidentally, you know, bite you or whatever, so fine, I won't reciprocate tonight.

"Unless that's the problem?" Ruthie continued as a new thought occurred to her. "You don't want to go down on me because I'm not going to go down on you? Maybe you don't like it as much as you purport, Mr. Banks."

In spite of the circumstances, her words made him laugh. "You can really tell your parents are solicitors, you know?"

"Don't change the subject," Ruthie admonished, trying not to laugh. "I mean, honestly, what's your issue?" She jumped up to sit on the counter and pulled an unwilling Elliott between her flannel clad legs. "You just really don't want to?"

Elliott leaned in and kissed Ruthie on her mint-flavored mouth. "I want to, you have to believe me, I want to so fucking much," he assured her. "I just don't think it's a step we should take yet. I mean, you're only fifteen--"

Ruthie nodded her head and said the words "only fifteen" in tandem with him. "Yeah, I know, I know. But it's not like we're having sex, right? There aren't any reproductive issues, like I said, no pain to worry about?"

"Ruthie, I don't know what you've heard, but oral sex is a form of sex," Elliott said, his frustration evident. "It's right there in the name, you know? It's very intimate, and feelings can still get hurt."

"But Elliott, that's what I want," Ruthie said to him in surprise. "I want the intimacy. I want to feel that closeness with you, don't you understand that?" She leaned her head on his chest. "I know how old I am, and it's not my fault. But when I said I loved you, I really meant it. And you're my first, my first love."

Elliott put his arms around her and closed his eyes at her words.

"I want to be closer to you, but I know we shouldn't have intercourse yet," Ruthie continued, her words muffled against his chest. "So when you said you liked to do it, I thought it would be nice.

"Can--can you make a girl have an orgasm doing oral sex?" she asked.

Elliott saw his reflection in the mirror as he nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Usually multiple times."

Ruthie sighed, her breath warm through his shirt. "Sounds nice. I think about you when I come, did you know that? And it's amazing, just amazing."

Hearing her words, and feeling her body against him, was fast weakening his defenses.

After all, it was just like she said, another way for them to be close.

He lifted her chin, kissed her lips again, lips that were already noticeably plumper than before, and carefully lowered her to the floor of the bathroom.

"Go get in bed and wait for me, okay?" he told her. "I want to wait and make sure your dads don't come down to check on us. I'll be there in a bit."

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Ruthie had drifted to sleep when she was pulled back to wakefulness by her bedroom door opening. She felt the bed dip as Elliott got in with her, and turned toward him as he took her in his arms.

Their kiss was gentle at first, but quickly lit fires in them, as Ruthie made a sound of gladness and dug her fingers into his hair. She wrapped a leg around him so she could pull him closer.

"Whoa! What in the world are you wearing?" Elliott sat up and turned on the lamp next to her bed.

Ruthie sat up in a snug, long-sleeved pajama top that snapped all the way down the front, and Elliott could just see cute pink knickers peeking out from under the down comforter.

"Why did you change?" he asked. "Not that you don't look amazing, sexy as hell."

Ruthie shrugged and smiled. "I thought this would be easier than me trying to get out of that onesie so you could get at my 'lady parts,' as you like to say."

"You really want to do this?" he asked, his voice getting serious.

Ruthie nodded, smile growing.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, please say so right away, yeah?"

Ruthie nodded and lay down, kicking the comforter out of the way with great enthusiasm.

"God, Ruthie, your eyes, your smile and face and that, they're so lovely, but your body, my god," Elliott murmured, looking down at her. The shirt she was wearing was more arousing than seeing her naked would've been, probably, and her knickers were darling, curving over her round hips.

He kissed her again on the mouth, being more aggressive with his tongue than usual, pressing her head into the pillow. He slid his hands down her body, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, telling himself that no one had ever touched her in this way before.

He kissed her collar bones, unsnapping her shirt as he went lower and lower, and pressing his lips into the softest valley between her breasts. He spread the shirt apart, and nearly had an orgasm on the spot, just from looking at Ruthie's chest.

Her breasts were gorgeous, no other words would do. And he could tell, from the dusky rose color and shape of her areolae, that they weren't finished developing yet. Her entire body looked fresh and young and perfect.

"Wow," he whispered.

He could tell Ruthie had heard him from the way she tightened her grasp on his hair with her fingers, and the way she arched her back into his mouth.

He kissed her darling belly button and kept going, and finally, finally, he could smell her, the pungent, musky, woman smell of the girl he loved.

He slowly pulled her undies off, and looked at her sex, again, so beautiful and new-looking that he wanted to just stare at her for a while. He saw that her undies already had a damp spot on them, and was glad for that as well.

Ruthie was the first woman he'd ever been with who didn't shave off all her pubic hair, though he could tell she'd neatened up the edges a bit; and though he did just want to enjoy looking at her, he could tell from how she was shifting on the bed and rolling her hips that she was already really excited, and this thought in turn made him even more excited.

He leaned in and kissed her in the soft groove where her thighs met her hips, and pressed her legs open, far enough that he could see her, slick and nearly dripping for him, in the faint lamplight.

He leaned in and licked her, sucking a little at the thickness that covered her. He heard Ruthie gasp, and smiled as he did it again, and again.

He could see the pink pearl that sat at the top of her sex, already engorged, and when he flicked at it with his tongue, Ruthie nearly bucked right off the bed.

"Again," she murmured, pulling on his hair as he wrapped his arms around her legs and bent to his task once more. "Oh god, Elliott, again..."

For long minutes the only sounds in the room were Ruthie's gasps and moans, along with the wet noises of Elliott's oral activities.

Ruthie finally set her own rhythm, rolling her hips toward his mouth as she arched her body on the bed, making Elliot wish he could somehow both participate and watch as he stroked himself to the mind-blowing orgasm he knew was coiling up inside him.

Finally, she squeezed her legs tightly around his head as she let out a soft cry, putting a pillow over her face to muffle the noise. It went on and on, and he counted at least three different times when she relaxed, then tensed under his knowing mouth.

Elliot continued to lick and suck until he knew she was finished, then wiped his mouth on the sheet as he crawled up next to her.

The look on her face was amazing, her cheeks were rosy, her pupils wide and dark.

"Now you, right?" she said in a quiet voice, the voice of someone well sated. She pulled him so he was straddling her, so his length was lying nearly between her breasts.

"I don't know how, so you do what you do, and I'll watch," Ruthie said, chest still heaving for breath.

He didn't need to be told twice, and grasped himself, looking down at her, starry-eyed and beautiful, lips so full from her excitement that he wished she did know what to do, so he could feel them around him.

Elliott had been excited for so long that he finished quickly, in less than a minute. When he knew he was going to come, he realized he didn't have any tissue, or a shirt or anything.

Ruthie guessed his concern.

"No, on me, on me," she insisted, arching her back, her nipples pointing at the ceiling. Again, he needed no encouragement and felt like he was passing out as he watched himself shoot onto her body in warm spurts that seemed to go on and on.

Ruthie closed her eyes and arched her body into his release as though she liked it, and she rubbed her breasts with it when he was nearly finished; seeing her do this brought a few extra spasms that he didn't know he had, and Ruthie felt it, as well, and smiled, happy she'd been able to extend his pleasure a little.

He lay down and held her naked body close, feeling as happy as he could remember feeling in the last few months.

"Wow, thanks for that," Ruthie said, her voice already blurry with sleep.

"The feeling's mutual, milady," Elliott said, kissing her forehead. After a few minutes, he asked, "So, was it everything you hoped it would be?"

She answered him with a gentle, purring snore.

Elliott laughed, held her a bit longer, just because he could and wanted to, then put his pajamas back on and went back to his room. He left both doors open so he'd hear her in the night, again, just because, and  Clarence Darrow and Amal Clooney came in to sleep with him, before moving to Ruthie's bed in the wee hours of the morning.

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